Break Protocol
by zeppery4
Summary: Clint Barton is an agent for SHIELD and has a reputation for being one of the best, never leaving loose ends on his missions. But when he is assigned to kill a Russian killer something tells him to think differently. PLEASE REVIEW I WILL LOVE ALL OF YOU
1. Chapter 1

If you asked anyone around SHIELD there are 3 things that everyone could agree on. 1. Director Fury loved his doughnuts and no one takes the first or the last ones, those are his. 2. Tony Stark was the smartest guy around, scoring a higher IQ than some of their best. 3. Clint Barton was the coldest, hardest, yet the sassiest and unemotional recruit SHIELD has ever had.

Clint was just at the young age of 22 and yet he was already one of the best agents SHIELD ever had. He was smart, cunning, the world's best marksmen in the world, not to mention all the female agents eyes lingered on him when he passed by. He had just started his job as a full time agent and he was already one of the best.

Another thing about Clint was that he never screwed up a mission. All of his thoughts, actions, shots from his bow and arrow were flawless. Already he had brought in the man who was in charge of the biggest cult in America, had found the conspirators of the presidents attempted assassination. And the most impressing part was that he didn't have a partner, he refused one. He got his nickname 'Hawkeye' for 2 reasons- his eye sight was 30% better than the average humans, and he always did his missions alone just like a hawk killed alone.

"Barton, Fury's office 5 minutes." Maria Hill called into the gym as Clint let loose another arrow.

"Will do," Clint breathed. He walked over the target and started pulling out his arrows. All of them had hit the target at the bulls eye just like he wanted. As he pulled each arrow out and placed them in his bag his mind came up with a million and one different scenarios of what Fury was going to ask Clint to do this time. Busting a drug lord? Top secret experiment gone missing? It could be anything with Fury, Clint never wanted to know.

Clint decided to wash his face before he went to his bosses office. He looked in the mirror and saw all the scars, scratches, and dents in his face that he made over the years from doing all the crazy shit he had done to survive and get where he was today.

Walking out a group of agents walked past him. He would admit there were some female agents that were attractive but any service member of SHIELD were trained to swallow their desires and focus on what was best for the service. Even working here Clint didn't feel totally comfortable with this place. There were too many secrets, too many protocols you had to follow, Clint didn't like them but he followed them. He was reminded of these rules when he reached Fury's office door.

"ID required." An automatic robot voice asked him. Clint pulled out his ID card that had his picture, code name Hawkeye, and his level of security. Scanning his card the tiny hallway he was in filled with a beep.

"Agent: Barton, Clint. Security Level: 6." The robot women voice said. Automatic doors slid open reviling Fury at his desk going through some papers that Clint didn't give two shits about. Clint knew the routine when you were invited to Fury's office- you stood until asked to sit down, don't talk until he was finished and do leave until you were dismissed. It was like being sent the principal's office as a kid.

"Sit, Barton." Fury said in his usual cold voice. Clint sat down in the big black chair right in front of him. The room was pretty plain, the walls were a dark navy blue, clocks from different cities and countries lined the walls with different times, windows were the wall behind Fury and from the light coming in you couldn't see his face (Clint guessed it was supposed to be intimidating), and the only furniture was Clint's chair with one exactly like it beside his, Fury's desk and chair and finally curtain to close the windows. "I'm guessing you're wondering about your assignment." Fury sharply guessed.

"I've learned to just role with it," Clint tried to sound light but it didn't help the dark mood in the room.

"Good man, now this time your assignment is going to be a little different." Fury got up and started walking around the room.

"How are any of my missions the same?" Clint asked raising a brow. Fury gave him a shut-the-hell-up-and-let-me-talk-dumbass and Clint kept his mouth shut.

"This time you are going to be traveling to Russia," Fury looked out the window. The main SHIELD building was D.C so it overlooked all the white monuments and usual peaceful area. "We've have picked up on a major threat from a secret society called The Red Room." Clint was already thinking of all the things he would need, a thicker coat, heavier arrows for the wind he would most likely experience… "However," Fury interrupted his train of thought. "You can't shut it down." This strange comment puzzled Clint.

"Why not? If they are a threat why don't we shut them down?" Clint took Fury's few seconds as permission to speak.

"Because we don't have their exact location, that's one of their strong suits. We have our ideas but we don't want to strike until we are absolutely sure, we have promised to the Russian government to keep this under wraps until we are for sure that both of us are positive about Red Rooms location." Fury explained.

"If we can't shut them down then why are you telling me?" Clint was trying to keep his little frustration out of his voice.

"Because there is one person from the Red Room who we need to terminate imminently and you seem the most capable to do it." Fury turned to look at Clint, Clint had never asked what happened to his eye and always wanted to but never did.

"Who is he?" Clint asked, _termination-_kill them is what Fury was really saying.

"She…" Fury stressed and Clint was surprised that it was a women he would be killing. It's not like he hadn't done it before but most of his kills were men. "… is one of the most deadly people we have ever seen. She has been on our radar for about half a year and recently it's gotten worse. Her number of killings has doubled over the past 3 months and the worst part is, is that she's almost untraceable. From what we can tell she has no family, no educational background, nothing. She has been completely isolated and brought up to what she is now, invisible and a killer."

"What do I need to know about her?" Clint was eager to get on the assignment. Not the killing her part, he never like that, but he did like getting to know the people especially this one who had such a notorious reputation.

"Her full name we think is Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Her aliases include Natasha Romanoff and goes by Black Widow. We know she has been in Volgograd for the past couple of months and around that area" Fury slipped a file to Clint across the desk.

"And?" Clint asked.

"And what?"

"I'm just used a little more information about the person than this. You know, age, background, co-conspirators, that sort of stuff." Clint looked at the paper which had only a few lines of information on it.

"That's the thing Barton," Fury sighed and looked out the window. "That's all we do know. I told you she's invisible other than this and the people she's killed we have nothing." Clint was a little surprised by the little information SHIELD had given him. This girl must be good.

"What' the plan?"

"You'll leave tomorrow morning, fly to an airport just outside Volgograd and take a bus there. You have only 3 weeks to kill her Barton, that's all we can manage with the Russian government, plus her pattern is to change quickly." Clint was now a little stressed for how quickly he would have to complete this but it was doable.

"Alright then," Clint closed the folder and tucked it under his arm. And straightened up and saw a nod from Fury that allowed him to stand up. Clint headed towards the door.

"Barton," Fury said stopping Clint midway from opening the door. "I trust you that you'll get this done quickly and quietly."

"Always Director." Clint shut the door and walked down the hall to go home. Which in his case was a condo on the upper most floor of the building.


	2. Chapter 2

Now most SHIELD agents had their houses within 10 miles of the building but Clint was in the building. He didn't have a home before, when SHIELD found him he was at a gym when he first saw Fury walk up to him and Clint knew this guy was either here to offer him something, or kill him; luckily Fury was just asking him to join SHIELD.

The top floor was reserved for any trainees or agents that didn't have a family. The floor only currently contained him, and two other trainees who happened to be brother and sister. At least they still had each other, Clint had absolutely no one since 2 years ago. He tried not to stay on the memory of his dead brother but sometimes it crept through the cracks in his mind.

_Clint was a week away from turning 20 when he got the phone call from a hospital just a few miles away. At that point his brother and him were living in an abandon house that belonged to an elderly lady who agreed to let them live there on low rent if they mowed her yard and helped her around the house. Clint ran into the hospital and asked to find Barney Barton. He was directed to a room down the hall and when he burst in he saw his brother hooked up to all kinds of machines and was unconscious. _

"_It was a hit and run, we're having the police doing everything they can to find the driver." The police man told Clint who barely heard any of it. He was just looking at his brother, the only family he had left literally dying in front of him. They're parents had died early on from a home break in gone bad and the intruder killed them both, both the boys had been at a friend's house. Barney was 12 and Clint was only 10, after that they moved around from relative to relative until Barney was 15 who finally got Clint and ran away. That's when they found the traveling circus; Barney worked as the 'Boy Lion Tamer' and Clint was 'The World's Youngest Marksmen', that's where he sharpened his archery skills. That whole thing lasted until Barney was 18 who finally had enough and found the abandon house they lived in. The brother who took care of him during their orphan year, was going to be gone. _

_Barney didn't wake up until the next morning when he started groaning; Clint was asleep in a chair but only lightly so he heard his brother._

"_Barney, hey bro you ok?" Clint couldn't keep the utter relief he felt when his brother woke up._

"_Clint? Holy shit," Barney blinked in pain as he took notice of his multiple injuries. _

"_It was a hit and run Barney but you are going to be ok," Clint didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or Barney._

"_Clint, listen up," Barney rarely got serious so Clint knew this was going to be important. "Be careful ok? Remember everything I taught you. I'm proud of you." Barney smiled. The last comment took Clint back a bit before he realized what Barney was actually saying- goodbye._

"_Barney what are talking about you can't…" Clint looked at the heart monitor and saw the little heartbeats were getting slower and softer. "No, Barney please." Clint ran out of the room. "SOMEONE HELP PLEASE! HELP!" He yelled through the hallway and several doctors and nurses came sprinting down. They pushed past him to his dying brother and started muttering in hospital terms. Clint tried to push to his brother but got denied by a doctor._

"_Let us do our work son," the doctor shoved Clint back a bit._

"_Please you have to save him," Clint felt like a child again. He ran out of the room to breathe and ran back in the room a second later ran back in but didn't see the doctors doing anything. "What are doing, help him!" He ran over to the bedside and saw the heart monitor was a line, the doctors wore face made of plaster. _

"_I'm sorry, he had internal bleeding we didn't get to in time." The doctor placed a hand on Clint's shoulder. _

"_No, he can't- you had to save him. That's what you do here." Clint started blabbering. But looking at his brother face he knew he was dead. The red tone that usually filled his cheeks were gone, his chest laid in one place. The doctor tried to say something else but Clint didn't get a chance to hear it. He ran back to his house he didn't care about the cars that beeped at him, the people who yelled at him or the dogs that parked. He ran back to his house, slammed the door and started tearing through the house screaming. He threw chairs, broke glass and pounded the walls until his hands were bloody. Then he cried, it had been only the 2__nd__ time he had ever cried because of something other than an injury. Sure he cried when he broke his arm in 3 places or when he cut his arm open from an arrow, but those go away and you can heal them. The pain he felt was like being told his parents weren't coming home, the pain he felt when seeing the bodies and going to the funeral all rolled up into one excruciating pain. SHIELD found him 3 weeks later._

Clint shook his head from the flashback and walked into his condo. Even though it was very luxurious it didn't have much in it really, a small kitchen with an equally small table. A couch that pulled out into an extra bed (not that he would ever use it), a TV and computer that were SHIELD monitored so he barely used them, bathroom and then his room. He walked over to the cabinets and pulled out some of the only food he had- cereal. He poured it into bowl and went to sit on the couch but didn't even bother turning on his TV. All it showed were news and science channels that usually showed boring things, or just plain bad news. Clint had enough bad news to last him a life time.

After gulping the last of the mostly tasteless food he walked back over to his bag and looked at the file of the woman he was now assigned to kill he had set down on the counter. The photo was just from the side and she had sunglasses on, smart move. He re-read everything once or twice then went over his game plan in his head.

Get to Russia

Find the woman

Trail her for a few days

Kill her

Seemed simple enough. Although Clint could already tell this was going to be difficult, looking at the list of all her known skills Clint got a little worried for the ones SHIELD didn't know. Taking the file he went into his room and packed a bag with things he could survive on. He pick his favorite collapsible bow with his special arrow holder. He packed the SHIELD official winter coat which looked like a sports coat but acted like a heavy one. He grabbed some boots, pants, a hat, glasses and a thermal shirt. He put the backpack on a desk in his room along with the folder then grabbed a Russian language book and flopped onto his bed. SHIELD agents are required to learn 3+ languages not including their own and he was now fluent in Spanish, French and German. Russian he had looked on but wasn't great at it. He started flipping through and found it wasn't that hard to learn. Plus it wasn't like he would have to carry on a long complicated conversation. Slowly but surely his eyes started taking longer blinks until the Russian and English were all mushed together, finally he let himself sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

One thing that every room was installed with was an automatic alarm clock that went off at 5:30 AM, then again at 6 and finally at 6:45 and if you weren't up by then, it would not be pretty for you.

Clint forced his body up at little after the first alarm and took a hot shower. He wanted his skin to remember the warmth since he was going to probably the coldest country on Earth. After getting out his bathroom was filled with steam which felt good. Clint was originally from North Carolina so the warmth reminded him of home.

After a shave and clean close Clint went to the airport which was just across from the SHIELD building where he saw Fury.

"Right on time," Fury sounded pleased.

"Well you've given me only 3 weeks to find this woman, I need all the time I need." Clint only half joked. Fury did one of his half smiles and showed Clint to his helicopter and handed him a small bag.

"This has a credit card that will be accepted anywhere, a GPS that will show you where your extraction will be and a code book that sure work on any of their buildings you may need to get into." Fury gave a nod as Clint took off. Clint strapped in and settled in to what would be a long flight.

Clint most of dozed off because when he woke up the pilot was giving him a little push to wake up. When Clint opened his eyes they were met by the most plain of sights- the sky was gray and the land was white, even with the buildings rising it looked almost empty, it made him long for the SHIELD tower again.

The plane started to slowly descend down Clint readied himself for the impending cold by putting on his jacket.

"There will be a black car waiting for you, it will take you to the city and where your starting point will be." The pilot inform him. He punched some buttons and the wheels started to come out and the runway was in sight.

Clint felt the sudden popping of his ears and the bump and lunge of the plane hitting the ground. It was obviously snowing outside, Clint couldn't see more than 10 feet in front of him. He hopped out of the plane thanked the pilot and looked for this mysterious black car he was supposed to get into.

"Mr. Barton?" a voice said. Clint turned a little and saw a slick black car with a man in a suit standing in front of it with a heavy coat on.

"Yes?"

"We are here to take you to your destination." The man said.

"What ever happened back in the army?" Clint asked. It was one of the many codes SHIELD had to communicate without drawing any suspicion, Clint just wanted to make sure these were the people he was looking for.

"A plane went down but a man survived." The man replied with the correct answer. It was a reference to Captain America who went down with a plane to save New York and they still refer to him as alive.

"Just making sure," Clint said in a relieved tone.

"I understand," the man answered while opening the back door for Clint to get in. The car was warm which was a relief from the freezing temperatures Clint had experienced only for a few seconds. "Your hotel is just outside Main Street, you will be staying in room 439. We have agents in nearby cities if you run into any trouble." The driver quickly informed Clint who just noticed that he had a slight accent.

After a little awkwardness in a quiet car Clint thanked the driver and walked into his hotel which was probably the closest he would ever get to royalty. The ceiling was high and lined with lamps with one big chandelier in the middle. The floor was a tan tile with the walls a golden yellow. Pillars ran across the walls and a piano and a dozen chairs and coaches filled the lobby along with a grand fireplace that looked almost as tall as Clint himself. He slowly made his way up to the desk still drinking in everything there was to see, every time he switched his eyes there would be a new detail he didn't notice before. He bumped into the desk and saw it was made with solid old oak and probably weighted a ton.

"меня зовут Клинт Бартон у меня есть номер здесь." Clint slowly pronounced which roughly translate to: Hi, I'm Clint Barton I have a room here.

"Американский?" American, the desk clerk asked.

"Да," Yes, replied Clint.

"Этаж 9 номер 3," The clerk handed him a key and continued to type on his computer. Floor 9 Room 3. Clint carried along still awed by the structure and got into the elevator which was equally as impressive as the lobby. He pressed 9 and the elevator started its way up. He guessed the only reason for the fancy hotel was because he was staying more than a week. He decided he would get settled, then go and start searching for the Widow.

When Clint finally entered his room (after a couple of failed attempts) he set the bag down on a grand bed and took out his bow which he promptly extended to full length and looked at his favorite weapon in the world, not many people preferred it anymore but Clint would take it over a gun any day. He suddenly heard a tiny ring and found it was a phone in the black bag Fury had given him.

"You forgot to mention there was a phone," Clint answered the phone to see it was Fury's ID who popped on the screen.

"I knew you wouldn't take it then," Fury sassed back. It was true Clint hated phones more than anything. "Anyway, also in the bag is an earpiece you have to keep in when you go out. It'll keep us in touch along with Coulson. Also on your phone is the last place the Widow was seen in the city. You're about a mile and half away. I suggest you get started." Fury explained and hung up before Clint could respond. He grunted and threw the phone on his bed and looked in the bag to discover a tiny black box which contained the earpiece Fury was talking about. He placed it in his ear and looked on the phone to see an address on his screen: 392 Сталинград дорога. He packed his bow, his arrow holder, slipped the phone into one of his many pockets, grabbed glasses and a hat and set out of the room. He made sure no one was coming because a guy dressed the way he was, was probably up to no good.

Almost silently he got in the elevator and pressed it to go the ground floor. As soon as the elevator started to descend Clint looked back on his memory to see if there was anything that might suggest a servant's door or even a back door. He remembered that just beyond the desk in a corner was a steel door with red lettering Clint didn't care to remember but it was his best chance.

As soon as the door dinged into the lobby Clint dodged out into the corner of the lobby, nobody seemed to notice but he didn't want to take the time so that they did. He moved his way to the door he had remembered and scampered out the door before anyone could tell. It lead him to a long hallway which wasn't as grand but still pretty fancy. Following it he saw into a kitchen, laundry room, trash room until it came to an end door which Clint pushed out of to reveal the snowy day in Russia. He pulled up part of the coat which doubled as a scarf near his neck and pulled it over his mouth and nose. He stuffed his hands into the pockets and started for the streets, he never cared to wear gloves because they made his hands feel big and slow.

As he was walking a surprise noise came from the earpiece and it turned on. There was no voice for a few seconds then an automatic voice started telling him where to turn.

"Go to the next street then take a right," was its first command. Clint obeyed and went to the next street and turned right. Not many people were giving him looks, the arrow case just looked like a circular case and the bow was collapsed in a secret pocket nearest to his back. One thing he noticed about Russians automatically was that none of them seemed relaxed. All of them had fast walks like they were on as an important mission as he was.

"Turn left up ahead," the voice distracted Clint from his observations. He walked a few more seconds then turned left. Clint looked at the street and saw the cars driving a little faster than what even he would be comfortable with driving in the snow. _They must be used to it._ So far Clint didn't mind Russia, sure it was cold but he had a kick-ass hotel and he didn't have to socialize with anyone, he was never really a people person.

"Up a street then take a left." The voice commanded once again. Clint started to pick up his pace and went up the street and took a left.

"Go halfway down and your building will be on your right." Was the last thing the voice said before it switched off. Clint went halfway and stopped and noticed he was in some kind of ally and in front of him was an enormous abandoned building. Clint shrugged and went through the metal door that was surprisingly open. As it opened the squeaking filled the empty warehouse and Clint stepped in cautiously. He looked for anything that might suggest that the infamous Black Widow was here. Very lightly he started to survey the area; the ceiling had rafters on it with rust, one of the floors had a big hole in it, chains and hooks hung all around, metal and dust riddled the floors. Clint walked around until the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up which was never a good sign. Clint silently pulled out his bow and loaded it with a paralyzing arrow head.

Pressing his back against the wall he listened and looked for anything that moved. Even in a building and with the scarf over his nose you could still see his breath forming through the cloth. He stood there for a good minute or two until he finally saw something flash across the ground floor up the half broken stairs.

Whatever it was it barely made a sound and was so quick if you had blinked you would have missed it. Clint quickly ran against the wall ready to draw his bow at any time. He quietly and lightly went up the stairs and looked for whatever had startled him. The room was lite by a few lights in the building and the lazy sun shining through the clouds. Clint flashed his eyes around the room and saw nothing but yet he didn't let his guard down.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flash again, he turned and pointed his arrow not letting it loose until he had an accurate target. Suddenly there was a sharp kick on the back of his head, stumbling forward he quickly regained his balance swung around and was met with a glimpse of red and a swift punch in the face. Dodging the punch he let an arrow loose towards the stranger. The person dressed all in black except the red hair easily side stepped the arrow. He quickly reset his bow with a special one that he had only 3 of. The shadow of a person was running and jumping with all the backflips and moves that took years to perfect. Clint took several seconds before letting it loose; it shot towards the target and it midair burst into dozens of little flying pelts that riddled the black assassin and the wall around them. The black figure swatted some of them away but seemed more irritated than affected by them.

With lightning speed the shadow sprinted towards Clint and before he even knew what was happening he was kicked in the face and wrapped in a chain. Falling to the ground and struggling to get out he looked up to be staring into a face covered by a mask with only their green eyes visible and their vibrate red hair before they kick him again in the face and knocking him out.


	4. Chapter 4

Clint woke up with a pounding sensation in his head and a ringing in his ears. When he opened his eyes the world was blurry and out of focus, he was seeing double of everything. He struggled and then remembered that he was wrapped in chances by the mysterious shadow. After the world shifted back into focus he saw his bow wedged between a pile of rocks and the floor, (which is probably the only reason it was still intact and not broken by the Russian ninja). He moved his hands around and found the hook which he unhook from the chains and slowly but surely got himself free. Getting up he braced himself against a close wall and got his bearings. He didn't know how long he had been out, probably a few hours by the hunger in his stomach. He tried to think of the last honest to god meal he had and it escaped him which probably wasn't good. His ear was suddenly filled a loud beep as his ear piece turned on and next thing he heard was Fury's usual unemotional voice.

"Barton, status update." He demanded automatically.

"Well I found her, kinda." Clint admitted in a sighing tone as we went to go get his bow.

"What do you mean kinda?" Fury's voice went stone cold.

"I mean I did find her but she is way more advanced than you all predicted." Clint rubbed his forehead as he told Fury.

"She took you out didn't she?"

"Maybe…" Clint reluctantly admitted.

"You got anything on her?"

"Other than she has highly trained skills that would even make our best look like first timers, I did manage to pellet her with some tracking devices so I'll be able to get her signal whenever I decide to activate them." Clint was happy to remind himself about the tracking pellets the Black Widow only thought was a distraction.

"Great, I'll check up tomorrow night."

"Wait Fury what time is it in D.C?"

"It's 3:32, why?"

"Curiosity," And quickly Clint disconnected from Fury and shook his head. If it was the afternoon there it must be at least midnight or later there, he had been out for hours! The realization made his body work faster picking up the bow and walking out of the warehouse onto the white and nearly empty streets of Russia. He quickly retraced his steps until he got back to hotel and that's when he finally pulled down his mask from his face and got out of the winter cloths; he thanked the Lord that he had the mask on so that the Widow didn't see his face, that would have been a big blow to his mission.

Examining his arms he saw some forming bruises and his skin turning red and purple. Taking off his gloves his fingers were an unnatural white, he was just glad there were no signs of frostbite. He walked into the shower and let the hot water wash off the coldness from his skin. He thought about his target and who she was. Her skills were more advanced than anything that he had ever seen, it seemed like she was bred for this- he was impressed.

After the shower and toweling off he flopped into the bed just enjoyed where he was for once. He rarely got to enjoy the places that he got assigned to, hell he had been to Jamaica, _twice_ and never even got a day off to enjoy the scenery or the culture. Lying on the bed his eyes started to take longer blinks and the bed acted like it was swallowing him whole. Finally he took one last look at the beautiful ceiling with the chandler and his eyes finally let him rest.

When he woke he was bombarded with the sound of construction. Forcing himself up and looked out the window he saw trucks and bulldozers working on the street. Since he was up he decided to get a move on and try to get started on his day. He suddenly remembered of the trackers and was filled with unusual warmth knowing that his search wasn't going to be as hard as he originally intended.

Turing on the tracking device the screen lite up at first black with an annoying beeping sound. A grid suddenly appeared with tiny red dots appearing on it. There were a group of them in one place which he guessed was the abandoned building that he shot the arrow off. As for the others the screen zoomed out and he saw what he was hoping, a group of 2 red dots that seemed to be moving in unison, the Widow. Smiling to himself he dropped the tracker on his bed and started to suit up, with new arrows of course, and a special pair of glasses that had a targeting system in it. He would admit SHIELD had the best tech out there, well besides the Stark Industry weapons. Putting in his earpiece it did it's little turn on thing then a voice ended up coming through.

"Message from: Agent Coulson." The robotic voice said. Coulson had been the one who found Clint and asked him to join SHEILD, so Clint had the upmost respect for him.

"Barton, I know your probably wrapped up in your mission right now but I just wanted to tell you that… well I know Fury warned you about the Widow but I want to tell you- be cautious around her. One second can mean the difference between winning or losing against her. We'll see you when you complete your mission." The message went off. Clint grinned to himself; Coulson was the closest thing that Clint had ever had to a father figure or a _good_ mentor. He was glad Coulson called; they hadn't seen each other in a while since Coulson had been assigned to something that involved a radioactive plant gone wrong.

Clint sneaked out the same way he did the last time, bringing the tracker with him and looking at it every few minutes. The 2 red dots that was his destination, he passed the cluster that was the warehouse and continued north. They didn't seem to do a lot of moving which gave him a cautious sense.

Walking he pulled the scarf over his face to keep the cold from his face and hopefully wouldn't let the Widow see his face. He reached up and turned on the target glasses and the lens were filled with circles and lines that would help Clint target the assassin, not that he needed it. He picked up his pace and got closer to the red dots, looking around where he was the took noticed of the weather, still the same gray, blank slate as before but at least it wasn't snowing although it would probably later today.

From the position of the dots and where he was he looked and saw the oddest thing that we would have expected- a diner. He was thankful that his arrow didn't look all threatening, more like a tube that you'd put a poster it. Quickly putting the tracker away he walked in and quickly surveyed the small place and- jackpot. A vibrant red head was sitting in a corner with her eyes glued to the paper sipping a cup of coffee, if Clint didn't know who she was she would seem someone that Clint might start up conversation just for the hell of it, he'd admit she was attractive.

"Здравствуйте мед, хотите место?" a large Russian woman came up and asked if he wanted a seat.

"Да, пожалуйста, и чашка кофе." He accepted and asked for a cup of coffee, as he cautiously pulled off the scarf exposing his face while looking over at the woman every so often out of the corner of his eye. The only other people in the place was what looked like a student over their studies at the counter, an old woman and her husband in front of Widow and finally the waitress and the cook. It was a nice cozy little place that Clint thought he would come to often if he lived here.

He sat down and picked up a paper and started reading, he didn't understand half of it but he wanted to look as casual as possible. When the waitress brought him his coffee and hot cup burned his palm but it felt good. He read and sipped his coffee keeping an eye on the Widow who hadn't seemed to move in the time that he had been there. He did a little routine, read, sip, and glance up. He didn't glance often to raise suspicion. The paper wasn't interesting besides some of the pictures which helped him reading the Russian. Suddenly the red head got up, left money on the table and walked out the door. Clint knew he had to follow her but he didn't want it to be to abrupt, he quietly finished his coffee, left money and walked out the door looking for the vibrant red hair. He saw it a few blocks down and started walking. He followed her for a few blocks; he memorized the route- right, left, right, right, go down two streets, left.

She turned into a building and closed the door. They were on the outskirts in the run down part of the city by then. Clint went around back and shot an arrow with a grappling hook on the end and clamped onto the edge of the roof. As quietly as he could he scaled the building until he ended on the roof.

"Barton," Fury's sudden voice made Clint jump a little.

"Christ Fury, give me a warning or something." Clint calmed himself down quickly.

"Sorry, have you located the target?"

"Bout to take care of her." Clint said quiet calm which worried him. He was talking about killing someone and he was totally ok with it.

"I want to stay on the line until you have absolute confirmation that she is taken care of, we can't afford to lose this one." Fury informed him.

"Just don't scream in my ear anymore, deal?" Clint took Fury's silence as an agreement. He scouted the roof and thankfully found a door that lead inside, even more surprisingly he found it unlocked. He didn't let the good fortune go to his head, he was as cautious as ever. He slipped inside quickly and found he was on top of a balcony overlooking down below- perfect. The lights were flickering and very dim although Clint could make out everything in the room. He quickly grabbed his bow and loaded an arrow that carried a small explosion when he clicked a button.

"Вы предали нам Наталья," a deep voice said. From what Clint could make out they said something about betrayal.

"Я не сделал ничего плохого Иван." The red head spoke. She was defending herself.

"Ты под нашим командной сукин ты не забыть." The man said quiet fast Clint could barely understand that he was saying that she was still under their command. He grapped her cheeks and held her head in him hand.

"Wait for it Barton," Fury said into Clint's ear, he had almost forgot about him. Clint was a little jumpy and twitchy, he didn't want to miss the shot.

"Вы будете платить за предательство." The man spat in her face. She was physically gritting her teeth. The man was in the way to hit the girl.

"Take out the man," Fury seemed to agree with Clint's thought of killing the man.

"Вы маленькая сука." The man called her a bitch and threw her on the ground; Clint was surprised that she wasn't fighting back. She laid on the ground and took it, this reminded him of the times the circus he would mess up on a routine and the owners would beat him and he learned to take it. The woman who had taken him down with no problem was now on the ground holding her stomach and bleeding in various places

Before Clint could register it he let the arrow go and hit the man straight in the back; the explosion was quick and small. It tore open the man's back and he fell to the ground in an unconscious thud. The woman looked surprised and focused her attention on Clint. He quickly started to grab an arrow and looked at the woman, the one he assumed was the strongest and bravest, now had the look of scared and surprised on her face.

"Barton, take out the target." Fury commanded. Clint's fingers lingered on what arrow he wanted to choose. What was he doing? He was wasting time. "**Take out the target now Barton!"** Fury yelled into the ear piece. Clint took an arrow and shot it at the wounded Widow before she had time to react. It hit her square in the chest, letting out a cry of pain and then slummed to the ground.

"Barton?" Fury questioned. God he was going to get fired for this, hell this was basically treason. "Did you take her out?"

"I did, just not in the way you wanted me to." Clint admitted. He hadn't picked a kill arrow, just one that sent out a massive electrical pulse and knocked you out.

"Clint, I swear to God that if she's alive…" Fury began.

"I'll be out by the morning, you can yell at me more when I get home." Clint took out the earpiece before Fury could respond. He looked at the target he was supposed to take out and he let her live. God this was stupid taking in a class A assassin and Clint had let her see another day just because he felt a little sympathy for her. He picked her up and she was quiet light for the power that she punches. He started walking out trying to think what the hell he was going to when he brought back a fugitive to SHIELD.


	5. Chapter 5

While Clint was waiting for his helicopter to arrive he stared at the unconscious woman on his bed. How the hell was he going to get out of this one? Bring back a live fugitive, probably the stupidest, most ignorant thing you can do; he was definitely going to get fired for this. Why did he let her live? _Why, why, why?!_ This was fucking idiotic, he should just kill her now. It would be less painful for her since she wasn't awake. But he didn't move. He just stood over her wondering what the fuck was happening. He didn't know why but he felt sympathy for her, not a lot but enough to understand her.

"Yeah Barton, because feeling bad for an international killer is awesome for a SHIELD agent." He mumbled to himself. He had tied her tied up basically everywhere, wrists, ankles, legs, arms and hands. Her mouth was ducted tape shut. He felt a little bad for doing that but he had one earlier mission where the person bit a piece of skin off and he wasn't going to go through that again.

A sudden beep filled the room signaling the arrival of his ride. With a pit in his stomach he flipped his backpack on and picked up the unconscious and tied woman and thought of a way to get out of hotel with what looked a dead body in his arms.

After making it out of the hotel by dumping the body in a laundry basket and wheeling her out the back and all the way to the air pad where even the pilot gave him an odd look. He scooped her out of the basket and ran over to the helicopter. He only had about an hour left before the shock wore off so he got another Taser arrow so he wouldn't have to wrestle an assassin in midair.

"Fury's going to kill you," the pilot said to Clint. Clint didn't catch his name and felt a little bad about that but just wanted to get the hell out of Russia.

"Just go already." Clint grumbled to him and he took off. He took a seat in the back seat with the Widow lying across his legs. As the helicopter took off his ears popped and they started their way away from the white mess that was the snow coming on. Clint didn't take the chance of closing his eyes and sleeping just in case the Widow woke up and he wasn't ready with the next arrow to knock her out. So with time on his hands Clint just thought. He thought about things from what he was going to do when he got fired, his experienced with Russia and how this might damage SHIELDs relationship with their government, but most of all _why_ he decided to spare her life. He had experienced the manipulation that the Widow seem to have been going through.

"_Ok Clint, now all you have to do is shoot the arrows between her arms and legs while she is spinning on the wheel, got that?" Hogan, Clint's circus instructor, told him. Clint was practicing a classic circus trick; shoot the arrows at the person spinning on the board. Clint gulped and reluctantly nodded his head- he was barely 14 years old and hadn't really gotten to this level of archery that Hogan had expected. To practice they had one of their dancers, Julian, on the board spinning around slowly. Clint held up the arrow and let it loose sticking it into the board just to the right of her leg, she didn't seemed faced by it. _

"_Good, eh Ernie, ramp it up!" Hogan commanded the helper that Clint seldom knew. Julian spun a little faster, it made Clint a little nervous but as soon as he let off the arrow he knew it was a perfect shot. This one got a little closer to her body by lodging itself to the right of her head this time. She seemed to flinch a bit but quickly regained herself and smiled. Hogan gave Clint an encouraging pat on the back. _

"_Up one more!" Hogan eagerly yelled again. Clint and Barney had barely been in the circus for a year and already they were one of the most popular acts. Clint would shoot incredible things like a pea off of a pole or break a series of string with it. Barney became one of the greatest lion tamers around, he even went so far as to riding the lion at one point. _

_Clint saw the red board go a little faster than to his liking, but kept his tongue so he disappoint Hogan. Clint saw the board spin faster to the point where he couldn't make out Julian's face entirely, it was just a blur of eyes and a smile of rose red lips. Reluctantly he held up his bow with his fingers twitching at the end. Suddenly he let the arrow a second too early than what he meant to and suddenly a scream filled the arena. _

"_ERNIE! Stop the god damn thing!" Hogan yelled and ran over to the board where Clint saw that the arrow had planted itself into Julian's shoulder. After unstrapping her wrists and ankles Hogan instructed Ernie to take her to the first aid tent. "Barton, here now." Hogan commanded. Clint felt like he was going to throw up but he scampered over to the giant of a man. Hogan's face was an ugly mess of scars, moles and wrinkles. He started by smacking Clint across the face so hard he fell sideways._

"_WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" He yelled and Clint tried to crawl away._

"_I'm sorry, it was going to fast-" Clint struggled to explain when a sudden foot came up and hit him in the stomach. Gritting his teeth he kept tripping over himself to get up from the dirt ground floor. _

"_You worthless piece of shit, you can't do anything right!" Hogan kept yelling at him as he gripped him by his shirt nearly lifting him from his feet. Hogan punched him square in the face, when his first pulled back he saw blood covering his knuckles. _

"_It was a mistake, I promise I'll do better." Clint didn't fight back._

"_Because of you I'm down a belly dancer now! Get out of my sight before I dump you and your brother back on the streets was you belong." Hogan threw Clint down and gave him one more kick in the back making him fall down face first into the dirt. Clint heard him walking away mumbling to himself. He stayed motionless on the ground until Barney came over and turned him over._

"_Clint?! You ok? Jesus Christ- Ernie just came over and told me what happened. Fuck that Hogan." Barney sat Clint up so he could get his breath back._

"_How's Julian?" was the first thing Clint asked, he would never admit it but little 14 year old Clint had a crush on 22 year old Julian and hurting her made him hate himself even more. _

"_She's honestly fine, you know her, laughing it off. Yeah it was honestly it wasn't bad- it just scared her a little. She wanted me to tell her that she's fine and she'll talk to you later, she just needed to talk to Hogan." Barney said the last part a little slowly and Clint knew what that meant. It was at that exact moment Clint looked and saw Hogan dragging Julian into his tent- she looked over to Clint and gave him a look that was complicated but yet he understood it. It said, he's not going to be as mad when this is done. The thought made Clint sick but he couldn't stop her. _

"_Common," Barney interrupted his moment with Julian and when he looked back over there were already in the tent. "Let's go back to the bunks." He lifted Clint up and scooted him away from the arena over to their makeshift beds, they were basically hammocks strung from a couple of pole, that's where most of the employees slept._

Looking back on Julian, she was one of the only people that showed Clint true kindness in his life. After she came back to the bunk he ran up to her to apologize and she just brushed it off. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and went to her hammock were she basically passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow. After that incident Clint and Barney took another couple of beating but never fought back, it was the mental handcuffs that Hogan had placed on them. It took them another 2 years to finally run away from that god awful place.

Clint took a look out of the window and saw they were over water now. He now looked at Widow and tensed up. He could tell she was conscious now but now just playing dead- her breathing looked control now and her eyes would only slightly move under the eyelids. Not to alarm the pilot Clint casually bent over to his arrow bag and grabbed the one that would knock her out again. Before she could react Clint brought up another arrow and stabbed this one in her chest again. Her eyes flung her eyes open and let out another yell behind the duct tape on her mouth. Her arms clinched inward to her chest, her leg went outwards kicking Clint in the side of the face and then fell down and remained still as she passed out again. He rubbed his jaw making sure it was still in its correct placement. He looked upfront and saw the pilot's shoulders shaking, trying to hard not to show that he was laughing. Clint couldn't help but smile to himself either.

They landed in DC some a couple of hours later and the first thing Clint saw when they landed was Fury standing there in his usual black leather. He also wore his usual unemotional, unreadable face which made Clint a little on edge. He hopped out of the helicopter with the Widow in his arms walking over to Fury, there was no getting it out of it now.

"So you brought the body back?" Fury asked in a deadly tone that said _if she's alive- you're fucked._

"I did bring a body back," Clint shrugged and half-smiled, at that exact moment the Widow let out a large breath that was auto able. In sync Clint and Fury looked at the Widow then back up at each other. "Put her in the holding cell then come to my office, go!" Fury barked and Clint scurried off.

Within 10 minutes Clint had put the Widow in lock up with a chair and restrained her and basically ran over to Fury's office. As he was about to walk in he passed Agent Hill who gave him _What the fuck did you do_ look. He shook his head trying to say that he would explain later. He took a deep breath and opened the door to the dark office.

"Agent Barton," Fury said as soon as Clint closed the door. "You are one of the best agents we have, first in your class in physical, mental strength and highest IQ." Fury turned and placed his hands on the top of his chair. "So explain to me how one of the top agents we've ever had decided to not only let a class A assassin live, BUT you also thought it was a great idea to bring her along. Now tell me what sounds wrong with that." Fury said the last part like he was a teacher yelling at his student, which it was kinda like that.

"Sir," Clint thought about his word chose, Fury looked at him in anticipation. "I know what she did, and I'm not excusing her from that… but just it wasn't her." Fury gave him a dumbass look. "Ok, I mean yes- it was her but I think that's there more under this one than what meets the eye." Fury was quiet for a minute then spoke.

"Barton, I have no idea what is going on in that head of yours," he took a steading breath like he was going to regret was he was going to say. "But I guess I trust you on this judgment, I have no idea why, but I do. We'll keep this one, but under conditions." He held up his finger. "First if, any harm comes to an agent because of her, she's gone. You will have to be her mentor, everything Barton she learns comes from her. And finally if she even talks to the Red Room, she's gone- got it?" Fury laid down his terms.

"Those I can manage," Clint half smiled.

"Dismissed," Fury said and as Barton was leaving Fury added something quickly, "And also, don't make me regret this decision. I know what you've been through Clint, and if you see something good in her like we did in you, your title as best agent might be in jeopardy."


	6. Chapter 6

Clint walked back into the holding cell where he had left the Widow to find her sitting up straight and attentive. She was staring right at the wall with her face as blank as a sheet of paper. He was happy that she was restrained or he'd most likely be dead now.

"Могу ли я вам что-нибудь." Clint offered to get her something, he was just being polite. She didn't say anything, just continued staring at the wall not responding.

"в порядке, есть все, что вы хотите сказать." He offered to say something if she wanted to. Again the room was filled with silence, now Clint was getting annoyed with her."я сохранил свой гребаный жизнь можно сказать спасибо." Clint almost yelled at her. He had saved her life and she hadn't even said anything to him. She could be dead and yet she was here.

"могли бы также." She responded. _Might as well_. She thought she was going to be tortured. Clint felt a pang of sympathy for her, she had probably gone through a lot of that.

"We're not going to hurt you." Clint breathed out. He forgot to say it in Russian and just as he was about to she responded.

"How do I know that?" she said in English which surprised him, her English was great and her accent wasn't as heavy as he expected.

"Because I didn't let you live just for them to kill you." Clint leaned on the table. She finally looked at him and Clint took in her beauty. She face was a pretty pale color with her cheeks giving her a glass doll look. Her eyes were big and full of something that Clint couldn't put his finger on. Her lips were full red and deadly, she was built to kill. "You're under my authority, so I decide what happens to you, and that doesn't include being tortured. Now questioned, I know that you will be." He admitted. She kept quiet again, to his dismay. "Do I have a name to work with?"

"You know my name." she spat like she was in disgust.

"I have name_s_ to work with, but I want the one you would like to go by." Clint was trying to make a friendly gestured and hoped it worked.

"Natasha Romanoff," she muttered.

"Well Ms. Romanoff," Clint paused at calling her an official name. "I guess we'll be working close together," Clint smiled hoping to get Natasha to relax. "And to get this awkwardness a little less," Clint got up and untied her hands. He slowly released her ropes and walked back to his seat. She put her hands up on the table with red marks on her wrists visible. "That help?"

"A little, I'm guessing I'm not getting untied anymore am I?" she almost snickered, she was sassy and that made Clint a little more at ease.

"Afraid not, well not currently. Give us a reason to trust you and I'll see what I can do."

"I haven't exactly given you a reason not to trust me."

"Well you beating the shit out me and killing people so often that you showed up on our radar could be a reason why."

Natasha grew suddenly silent and looked down at the table with the cold, emotionless expression that she wore when Clint originally walked in. He had obviously hit a nerve.

"I didn't want to kill those people, those… children." She stammered out like it was acid in her throat.

"But you did," Clint remarked, there was no way getting around that fact.

"I didn't want to, I had no choice," she was trying to convince him, or maybe herself.

"The man…" Clint came to the sudden remembrance of the man that he had killed.

"Ivan, my superior," Natasha explain.

"Just because you have a superior doesn't mean you have to listen," he breathed. "I didn't." he added after a second.

"You have no idea about him, none of SHIELD does." She spat and with that Clint could tell she was done talking, he decided not to push her.

"I'll be right back," he excused himself from the room, and when he left he made good conscious effort to lock the door both physically and with his passcode. While walking down the hall he got dirty looks from nearly everyone as he headed towards the kitchen to eat. When he walked in he was greeted by Maria Hill who was coming out and stopped him.

"How'd it go with Fury?" she asked when he entered the room.

"Well," Clint started as he started piling food in his arms. "I am now in charge of the assassin that I was sent to kill. So good I guess?" Clint shrugged.

"So he's allowing her to live?" Hill questioned.

"Yeah, it that surprising?" he raised his eyebrow.

"Knowing Fury for as long as I have, yes it is a little surprising. Last time a target wasn't killed, it didn't end well for the agent or the target." She sighed. "And it seems like your target has a big rap sheet."

"The _target_ has a name, Natasha Romanoff." Clint snapped. Killer or not, everyone had a name and Clint thought everyone should be called by that name.

"Just remember Clint, she isn't on our side." Hill warned.

"I'm going to change that, I'm going to sculpted her into the best agent SHIELD has ever had the pleasure of having." Clint was on his way out with a bundle of food in his arms.

"Even better than yourself?" Maria snickered.

"Hopefully," Clint responded quickly as he walked back to the room with his new trainee.

When he entered the room the sight made his stomach drop, she wasn't in the chair. He dropped all the food and locked the door quickly and looked around the room to find Natasha. There was only a desk and 2 chairs, there was no way she could have escaped, there were no windows and this place was being surveillance every second. He heard the tiniest of creaks and then a foot was kicking him in the side of the head.

"What the living hell?" Clint yelled and he sprung back up. He was faced to face with the Widow, she was a whole head smaller than him but he quickly backed away in an attempt to not get hit again. "Where the hell were you?" All the Widow did was flick her eyes up towards the ceiling, she had been hanging on the light grate, inventive Clint would give her that.

"All I did was bring you some food," Clint motioned over to the pile of bread, meat and cheese on the ground and he rubbed his jaw making sure it was still in place.

"Thank… you." She said after a second and she rushed over to the food and started protecting it like it was the last food she would have ever seen.

That was the first time Clint actually questioned what kind of hell she had gone back through in Russia.


	7. Chapter 7

It had just been over 2 weeks since Clint brought Natasha back and things were interesting… to say more or less. So far she had broken 5 windows, given Clint 3 new scars and had to go back into the detention hall twice with restraints. It was the weirdest thing, sometimes she would be calm then other times it's like a bomb went off and she would just explode. Just the other day Clint had taken her to get a physical and that ended up with Clint restraining her while she was screaming in Russian with a syringe. Currently he was in the detention center getting ready to take her out again.

"God, I feel like I have to babysit you," Clint said to her as she walked out with 3 other agents around her. He waved them off and started walking with her down the halls of the SHIELD headquarters.

"I never asked you to look out for me," she snapped back.

"Neither did I, and yet here we are!" Clint yelled a little too loudly in the halls, he got some dirty looks from a few employees walking around in suits. The detention center was in the basement and SHIELD purposely kept it cold so the light shining through the windows was a warm welcome to Clint. He looked at Natasha and he swore she wasn't even shivering despite being down there for almost a day, most people down there couldn't last more than a few hours._ Russia._ He said silently in his head. "Come on…" he mumbled. They walked through the main hall to the main doors and out into the DC sun.

Walking down street they seemed like any normal people, they looked like a freaking couple. They walked down the street to SHIELD's official training building; inside they had dozens of gyms, technician rooms where they built and tested weapons, they had sparing rinks, rock climbing walls, they even had a tank with deadly fish in so the agents could work on their swiftness in the ocean. Clint took her up three floors to a boxing rink which luckily no one was in.

"Ready?" Clint asked pulling her into the rink.

"What? You wanna get your ass kicked again?" she sassed.

"Not my intention, I just want a chance to redeem myself," he half-smiled.

"Suit yourself." She quickly got into fighting stance and Clint quickly observed her. Her legs were shoulder width apart, her arms a little too close to her body and she was bending too much. He knew he didn't have the best stance but he was particularly good at seeing what was wrong with other peoples; find their weaknesses quickly and use those to your every advantage- was what SHIELD agents were taught from the very start of their training. He got into his comfortable fighting stance and readied himself.

She made the first move by advancing at his chest; he was fast but not fast enough to where she caught his shoulder with her foot. This threw him off balanced and when he turned back around he was met with a foot square in his chest. Falling backwards on his back he shot back up by flipping his feet up and thrusting his fist into her neck, not the place he was aiming for but it was better than missing. As she was dazzled, he swept her feet he expected her to fall back but was surprised seeing her do a backwards summersault and automatically shooting back, and before he knew what was happening she gripped his arm and used momentum to pull herself, grabbed his head in between her thighs and flipping herself and him made him forcefully roll to the right and fall on his back with her on top of his with her knee pressed on his neck.

"Thought you wanted redemption?" she asked through deep breathes. He took her moment of relaxation and pulled his knee up to push her off to where now she was on the ground while he pinned her wrists down.

"And I have it," he smiled and was surprised to see her return it. He felt a spark of true friendship between them but didn't let it grow. In SHIELD you didn't really have friends, the closest things he had to one was Maria and they barely talked about anything except missions or Fury. He got up and she helped herself up. "Again?" he asked and she nodded in agreement. During the next hour they spared and it was like a beautifully choreographed danced that they performed, enough fighting to where it was actual training but not enough force to actually hurt one another. By the end both Clint and her were sweaty and breathless.

"You're instructor was trained in the ancient ways wasn't she?" Natasha asked as they were leaving.

"I mean, I guess so," Clint shrugged. He thought about his combat instructor, Melinda May. No one really knew about her past and the only thing Coulson told him was she was from a hard part of China where communism was the worst. Her mother had smuggled her here and somehow she ended up with SHIELD. "I don't really ask question when it comes to her."

"Smart boy," she smiled. He thought back on his training on May and how she was always particularly hard on him, when he screwed up he got double the punishment and whenever their little 'tests' would come around they would have to fight her or each other and Clint always got stuck with May. It took him 4 months of training to finally get the upper hand in combat and he barely won even with that.

"Where to now?" Natasha asked interrupted Clint's thought. He quickly checked his watch and saw it was just close to midnight.

"Well I'm going to head up for the night," he scratch the back of his head. His body was close to falling on the ground so he thought this would be a good time to sleep. "I never asked, where have you been crashing?"

"First week they made me sleep in the detention center, put a little cot in it and a blanket. And for the past couple of nights they made me sleep in their hospital, who knows what they did while I was asleep- not that I sleep for very long," she explained. He gave her a questioning look. "I mean I usually don't sleep more than 30 minutes at a time, it's some I've… trained myself to do." She struggled on the word trained.

"How about you sleep in my place?" he asked and was automatically surprised at himself and was stared at by her equally surprised look. "I mean if you want, I know I've spent a good time sleeping at hospital and I know that they're not the best." He awkwardly laughed it off.

"I'll take sleep where I can get it, and you seem trust worthy so I'll accept." She said sternly, there was something in her voice Clint couldn't put his finger on but it didn't matter since they were already walking across the street to the SHIELD building where Clint lived.

Going up the elevator was awkward enough with no elevator music to accompany the silence. Natasha kept her face stern and cold all the way up until the bell dinged when they got to the top. Walking down the hallway he fiddled with his keys and opened the door to his messier than he remembered apartment.

"Sorry about the mess I mean it's just me here and-" he started.

"I'm used to much worse." She said quickly.

"You can have the bed and I'll take the couch?" he asked.

"Fine with me," and she walked straight into the bedroom like she knew exactly where it was. God Clint felt like he was a high school sleepover again where they weren't supposed to have girls. He saw her shut the door almost all the way to where they was just a little crack. Needing to get his head together he started to clean- something he rarely did. He put the bowls and spoons lying around into the sink and picked up some dirty, sweaty and bloody cloths laying around. Looking over his shoulder he saw into the room and saw Natasha sitting on his bed. Her hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and this was the first time he had seen it like that. He finally saw how tired she was, her body looked slumped and her face had scratches and scars Clint had not seen earlier. Slowly she wrapped her arms around herself and it looked like she was mumbling something. After a couple of seconds he lowered herself into the bed without bothering to get under a blanket. She was an odd one Clint thought; like a labyrinth that was never done surprising you. She was cold and untrusting of everyone except Clint, she was calm and collected but could go off like a bomb at any second. Clint didn't want to figure her out, he liked a mystery and she seemed like the best one that had ever come into his life so far.


	8. Chapter 8

"_Clint Barton?" a man knocked on his door. Clint had always hated people, most of them were no good and greedy. He was sitting on the counter eating cold pizza and really didn't want to answer the door. "Please, Mr. Barton we know you're in there." This made Clint curious and a little on edge, cautiously he got down from the counter and made his way over to the door._

"_Can I help you?" Clint asked opening the door just a smidgen, he didn't want anyone seeing the mess that he had made since his brother's death. Outside in the sun he saw a middle sized man wearing a black suit with a dark blue tie. His hair was wisped to one side, he had one of those faces that looked friendly but yet you didn't want to mess with him. In his hands he had a file with a big logo that looked with a form of the bald eagle. _

"_Can I talk to you for a minute out here?" he asked politely. Against his better judgment Clint went stepped outside facing the man and noticing he was just a bit taller than him. "First I want to give my condolences for you brother, he was a good man." _

"_Do I know you?" Clint snipped. He didn't like anyone talking about his brother, __he__ didn't even like thinking about his brother. _

"_Not personally, I'm Agent Coulson," he stuck out his hand. _

"_First names Agent?" Clint asked as he shook the hand._

"_Phil actually, I'm part of SHIELD- Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistic Division." _

"_Mouthful," Clint muttered. _

"_We've been told." He said almost automatically. "We would like you to come work with us." _

"_Are you asking or telling?" _

"_Depends on your answer." Coulson answered almost eagerly said. _

"_You're asking an orphan who has nothing be a part of something that sounds very important." Clint argued._

"_We've had our eye on you for a while, you have a certain skill set that we are interested in in improving." He handed Clint the file. Opening it Clint saw everything that defined who he was. A birth certificate, pictures of him from his years in grade school and a group picture of the circus he had taken just a few years before. Papers with words like 'person of interest', 'master archer' and a few others caught his attention. _

"_Can I honestly say that this is a little creepy?" Clint puffed out a laugh._

"_We do our research," Agent Coulson smiled. "You seem like the person we would want working for us."_

"_A nobody?" Clint asked half serious and half somewhat joking._

"_Strong, courageous, special." Coulson listed, Clint admitted he was surprised by this answer. "Clint, only a small number of people sign up for what we do and even smaller number we personally invite to join." _

"_And what would I exactly do?" Clint asked._

"_You'd train with us and based off what your strong area is determines what you will be assigned."_

"_Can I think about it?" Clint asked._

"_Of course, just give this number a call when you decide." Coulson handed him a small business looking card with only a number on it. He was walking off the steps when Clint stopped him by yelling something at him. _

"_Is this a choice or a demand?" he called down the steps._

"_Put it this way Mr. Barton, if you call you'll get a world of opportunities and if you don't- you may get more unwanted visitors in the coming weeks." He said, he got into a red convertible and drove off. _

Clint was woken up from his first meeting with Coulson in a scary manner- by the bloodcurdling screaming coming from his room. He nearly fell off of his couch and sprinted to the bedroom where he saw Natasha screaming in her sleep curdled up in a ball.

"Natasha wake up!" Clint yelled over to screaming.

"Stop! Please stop!" Natasha screamed with her eyes closed. Her body thrashed and she ended up slapping Clint across the face. "Милосердие пожалуйста, прекратите." She was begging for mercy to whoever was torturing her in her dream.

"Natasha!" he screamed and gripped her should and brought her upright to where they were facing each other. Clint saw even in the dark room that her face was red and streaked with dried tears. Her eyes finally snapped opened; she breathed like she had just sprinted a mile, her body was shaking and her eyes looked like she had just stared death in the face.

"получить от меня." She quickly said and pushed him off of her. Still sleepy and disoriented he fell to the floor. He stood up and noticed his hands were sweaty from her shoulders that he had gripped.

"Are you ok?" was the only thing that he could mutter out.

"Of course I am." She snapped at him quickly. "I don't need your concern."

"Obviously you do! Your screaming probably woke up the whole floor! I was just making sure that you weren't being kidnapped or something." He yelled back a little too loudly. She was standing next to the bed looking like she was ready to pounce, she looked deadly. "Ok look," Clint breathed to calm himself down. "You were screaming and I know that's horrible, tortured in your mind. I just wanted to make sure you knew you were safe." She looked up at him with a questionable look on her face.

"I'm fine," she said and she sat down on the bed and ended the conversation. Clint let out a frustrated breath and walked out the door. "Thank you," she called out.


	9. Chapter 9

Clint woke up groggy and stressed from last night. Looking over the back of the couch he saw the door was wide open and the bed was empty in a huge mess; automatically he snapped awake and looked around the room. He slowly got up and walked into his room where he heard the shower going and steam coming out of the door.

"Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen. Thank you for all the joy and pain. Picture shows, second balcony. Was the place we'd meet, second seat." She sang. It was Danke Schoen by Wayne Newton, the only reason he knew that song was from the movie_ Ferris Bueller's Day Off_, one of his favorite movies he saw when he was younger. "O Dutch treat, you were sweet. Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen, Save those lies, darlin' don't explain. I recall Central Park in fall, how you tore your dress, what a mess, I confess, that's not all." Her voice was amazing, even over the sound of the water it was loud enough for him to enjoy it. She continued to sing and Clint couldn't help himself but to stay and listen to the sweet melody, he really didn't mean it in a creepy way. "My heart says, danke schoen. Danke shoen, auf weidershein, Danke shoen." She finished the song and turned off the water. Clint suddenly snapped out of the song hypnosis and rushed out of the room to avoid being weird and just staying in the room and listening to someone sing. Ducking out of the room he ran into the kitchen and preoccupied himself with doing dishes that were already done. He heard the bathroom door open and close and the big bedroom door close also. Clint breathed a sigh of relief and looked at his hands in the wet dishes; what the hell was wrong with him?

Clint and Natasha were standing in Fury's office just an hour or two later. They had been called in for something that Fury himself had to tell them.

"Now I know you haven't been working with each other for long," Fury started.

"Only for about a month actually." Clint mumbled under his breath.

"But- I feel like Clint you should take Ms. Romanoff on a mission. I have one here," he threw a file on the desk that Clint stepped forward and took the file.

"It's in Barysaw, Belarus. We have reason to believe that we have several captured agents within a secret society." Fury explained.

"How many agents?" Clint asked.

"We think 4, and one might be already dead." Fury breathed with heaviness, the words hung in the air.

"The distress signal came about an hour ago then stopped after 45 minutes. We believe there are being held hostage with a few other civilians."

"But why are you just calling in us two?" Clint asked. Usually for hostage crisis's they called in about 10 or 11 highly trained agents.

"Because I only need you two." Fury said sharply. "You need to get the hostages out by the end of the day tomorrow."

"We only have till tomorrow?" Clint was a little taken back by this. Usually for foreign mission, especially ones halfway around the world, they were given at least 3 days and now just down to about 1 ½ ? This was going to be close

"We already know their position, all we need is for you two to get in and get out." Fury sighed, Clint had the suspicion that even he wasn't ok with having to have the mission completed by tomorrow night.

"We'll make it work." Natasha finally spoke.

"Thank you both, dismissed." Fury flung his hand. As Clint was walking out the last thing he heard Fury say was one of interest. "So tell me again about this radiation accident." Fury said talking into a phone. Clint shook his head and decided to leave that alone. Walking to the weapon room Natasha was quiet and so was Clint.

They entered the weapons room and Clint automatically went to the bow with arrow by its side. Even though he had his own personal one the SHIELD ones were always better in quality. Nobody ever used the bow and arrow except Clint and there was an unsaid rule that if you used it, you had to tell Clint. Clint saw out of the corner of his eye Natasha looking all the weapons, he felt like he should be scared considering she could pick up any one and kill him in an instant- but he wasn't. He turned just in time to see her picking up one of the most humble weapons they had here, a pair of gloves that had electrical pulses going through them.

"Odd," Clint simply said.

"What?" Natasha asked while strapping them on.

"Just I don't see a lot of agents that prefer those." He strapped on the arrows and gripped the bow in his hand ready to go.

"I can get very close very quickly, you saw that." She half smiled. "And I would prefer to have something in my hands, or on in this case, that could hurt them rather than pulling out my gun." She reached for one and put in some thigh gun holsters Clint had failed to noticed she had on. "But just in case." She took them and a couple of bullet clips and readied herself and faced him.

"Let's go" she smiled as both of them walked out the door to the plane that was waiting for them just outside.

Quickly they got onto the plane and started their flight to free the agents. Clint suspected that both of them would just doze off but was surprised when Natasha started to make conversation.

"So how did SHIELD find you?" she asked after a couple minutes of silence.

"Well I mean at first it was Agent Coulson first asked me about it. He came to my house and asked me if I wanted to join. Of course I was hesitant, I mean a man shows up at my door asking me to join some top secret agency and basically says if I don't join I'm going to be killed or something. After a couple of days thinking about it I was visited yet again by SHIELD, only this time Fury was with Coulson. Of course there was no backing out of this one and then I said yes. By the next day everything was out of my house and with SHIELD." Clint explained the story. He remembered the first time he saw Fury and how intimidating he looked with his eye patch.

"Do you like it here?" she asked and this question made Clint think. Did he? He had a place to stay and food provided for him. Clint didn't have any family and SHIELD had sort of become it in a weird sort of way. On the other hand, he had killed people- he had shot people in the head without thinking twice. Cults wanted him dead, he had taken away someone's brother sister, daughter or son; yeah they were bad people but they weren't always like that. They had laughed and loved, they just made a few mistakes along the way but these were still people. He kept going through a pros and cons list in his head.

"It's a job, I'll just say that." Clint finally settled on his words. "If it wasn't for SHIELD I'd be either living in an abandoned building stealing or doing some weird job that sucks." Natasha fell silent, he wondered if she liked SHIELD, or even if she likes him. Not that he cared what people thought about him, probably half of SHIELD thought he was an emotionless bastard and the other half thought that he could get away with anything that he wanted. Natasha sat back on her seat and twirled her hair in deep thought.

"So why do they call you the Black Widow?" Clint was interested in her nickname.

"It seems pretty simple," she sat up and rubbed her hands as if trying to wipe off spider webs. "When I was a teenager my… superiors used to send me out and seduce men. After we would get back in the room and before the…event I would usually kill them. Either with a poison wine glass, rope, or other things." She seemed reluctant to tell the story.

"Are you glad that I brought you to SHIELD?" _Are you glad I let you live_ was basically the question that he was asking her.

"I'll let you know after this mission." She smiled and with that she set her head against the widow and seemed to rest. Clint thought she should do the same but his mind wouldn't let him. Something was tickling at the bridge of his neck- this mission was going to be something different. Something wasn't going to go as planned; he didn't know how it was going to happen but it was and he didn't like the feeling. But he swore he wasn't going to let anything happen to Natasha, he didn't care how many people she had killed, she was a person that deserved another chance at life and Clint wasn't going to let that be cut short by being killed on her first mission.


End file.
